American Dragons
by Synfyny
Summary: The fantastical battle between the people of Alegasia and a ruthless dictator, all headed by a young farm boy named Eragon. But the dictator is a police chief in a small town and our hero is a street racer on the wrong side of the law.
1. Nitrous and Bad Blood

A soft breeze carried a scent that would change the world; the scent of petroleum and nitrous. Sheriff Alexander Durza sat in the shadows, legs straddled across his favorite bike. The anticipation was killing him. He chewed eagerly on his crimson mustache, tasting the stale beer consumed hours ago. An engine blared deeper in the woods lighting Durza's eyes ablaze. The sheriffs' gaze alone could silence his inferiors but a stiff bark was added for good measure. The biker gang he had been partnered with infuriated him. They were imbeciles, down to their embroidered jackets sporting the nickname "The Urgals" to the corny plastic horns taped to their helmets. The chiefs' gaze alone could silence his inferiors and a stiff bark was added for good measure. But as the Chief once told him; it takes a criminal, or many, to catch one.

A flash of white light made Durza's spine stiffen. The moment of his anticipation had come. On the road ahead three vehicles approached. One in the middle flanked by two guards like a flock of geese. It was time. Alex kicked started his Harley and prepared for acceleration. Light darted off of Durza's polished gas tank, alerting the oncoming racers to the law enforcements presence. In response all three vehicles sped forward. Profanity flew through the policeman's lips with restless abandon. He removed the pistol from his belt aiming haphazardly at the oncoming tires. The two sidecars were clear hits both spinning uncontrolled before joining together in a ditch. The lead car however, was what Durza wanted. His bike peeled out seconds after his prize passed him leaving nothing but a cloud of dirt and grime. The Sherriff risked everything, speeding to an almost certain death, but the car ahead was faster. He was gaining ground, shifting through the gears with a light foot, and swiftly, violently the car turned sliding into a private driveway. Speeding into the depths of residential farmland. A warrant would be needed for the law to follow.

Durza screamed in frustration as he panicked trying to stop his own momentum. It was over a quarter mile before Sheriff Durza could turn completely around and the time lost was fatal. The car was gone. A blue flash of the underbody lights could just be glimpsed before the motor was quieted and Durza's prize was swallowed up by the night. The police mans anger could not be curbed. He had loaded six bullets into his pistol, all finding refuge in the Urgals heads. They never had the sense to start their pitiful machines. The deaths, of course, would be "accidents" perpetrated by those nefarious street bandits. Durza lit one of his flares and threw it deeply into the wood. The orange half light reflected of a young womans face. Her dark gaze met Durza's as a pleasant surprise. If he could not have his car, he would have his driver.


	2. Discovery

Eragon knelt down scanning the pronged footprints with a practiced eye. Today he would add something deceased to his trophy shelf . The other boys in his neighborhood told fantastical stories of the rabbits they had brought down, and it was Eragon's turn. After all he was a boy of fifteen, just a year from his license. Boys that age were expected to know how to shoot, and it wasn't uncommon for them to drive either.

Eragons hunting grounds? A forgotten field nicknamed the "Spine" by those in town. Rumor had it that it's previous owner was a serial killer, and all that was ever found of his victims were backbones, stripped of their pink flesh. This bothered the other boys enough to keep the field private and the game plentiful.

Eragon was forced to embark on these hunting escapades at night, as his uncle disapproved of wasting the good ammo. Between the all consuming shadows of the night and the inaccuracy of his 22, the robins of the wood felt very safe and very cozy.

A movement in the bush ahead startled Eragon. Rearing its' head was a large and rather unattractive Norway rat. He brought the gun up to his cheek, having already loaded it in anticipation. The crossfire's directly over the animals beating heart Eragon pulled the trigger, his bullet imbedding itself into the rodents delicate leg. The crash behind him caught him even more unaware.

A vehicle came crashing through the shrubbery behind him, coming to a halt mere feet from his now trembling hand. He could her sirens in the distance. A blue flash came from underneath the car as the headlight sunk into the front bumper. Eragon thought it was miraculous, seeing a cars headlights disappear before his very eyes. H e crawled forward eager to get a closer look. The door swung open making contact with Eragon's skull sending him sprawling. A young woman flew out and sprinted for the woods, leaving the keys on the young boys lap.

The whole situation had an ethereal quality. Strange women don't just abandon cars in the middle of a vacant field. Eragon was weary at first, but his curiosity got the better of him. It was too dark to make out clearly but the vehicle seemed to be fairly new with smooth lines and rounded angles. It was built like a Corvette, only longer. The hood sported two snorkels looking like nostrils on the cars hood. What ever it was, it had the potential to be valuable.

Eragon didn't know what inspired to open the door, and climb his way onto the black leather seat. He didn't know what possessed him to slip the key in the engine and turn it. What he did know was that the purr of this cars engine was masking some serious power, and that the sirens in the distance wanted it. Eragon then made either the best or worse decision of his life. He pulled the lever to his right letting it rest next to the "D" letter and pushed lightly on the accelerator. The car surged slightly but it wasn't touchy.

Eragon knew of a shed that rested between the Spine and his own property. It was empty save a few boxes of surgical equipment. The place was undeniably creepy, but it could hold a car. With all the brazenness of untamed youth, Eragon inched the car forward, gradually becoming more comfortable with the motion. He had listened intently when his cousin Roran had learned to drive. Eragon knew he wouldn't make it far on a freeway but an abandoned field was a cakewalk..

The old shed had double doors like a barn and almost scraped the car as Eragon pulled it inside. He knew that he had to keep this a secret. The police were obviously after the woman for something, and the car would be seized too. The strangest part was that she gave a farm boy the keys. It couldn't have been unintentional. Eragon closed up the shed as he mulled things over. He would have to leave the car over night and decide it's fate in the morning. He shouldered his 22 and headed for home, keys resting firmly in his pocket.


End file.
